


Tumblr Made Me Do It

by some_mad_lunge



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, I'll update as they go along, M/M, SMUTTY SMUT, Sappy, all the feelings, lots of feelings, this is literally going to have everything, whatever I get asked to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 22:09:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_mad_lunge/pseuds/some_mad_lunge
Summary: I decided to finally compile all my Tumblr fics into one place. Each chapter will be a different story but I usually have a pretty heavy Malex focus. Everyting from G to M in rating.





	1. Watch Her Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little sappy future fic about Alex and Michael's daughter.

When they bring her home she’s so tiny that Michael is almost afraid to touch her, afraid to break her. Alex is a natural, because of course he is, waking in the middle of the night before she cries, humming in a soft voice that instantly calms her. Michael isn’t sure what he brings to the table, especially since she’s only 10 days old and 100% human. He just loves her so much, this little squishy long limbed piece of magic in the cosmos, Alex’s dark hair and long lashes. He wants more than anything for her to have Alex’s fighting spirit, and his dark eyes, his kindness.

So Michael makes the bottles and does the laundry, and makes sure she’s always safe. It started in the hospital, when she was just a few hours old. Isobel couldn’t wait to get her hands on her sort-of-niece but Alex was already nervous, hated having her out of his hands, no matter how much they trusted their family. It had been easy, to slide his hand over his husband’s and just keep her steady. Wrap her up in the one thing he could give her, his protection, his unwavering support. 

No one knew that as she was passed around the room that they could have let go at any moment and she wouldn’t have fallen. Her Daddy had her. He never even told Alex, because he got enough shit about being over protective of the people he loves, which isn’t that long of a list if he’s honest. If he can’t keep a handful of people safe then what is the point?

So he just keeps her swaddled in his hands, even if she’s anywhere but.

Alex is smart though, and one night she just won’t settle. She’s bigger now, more plump and easier to open her eyes, look into your soul. But the tears in those eyes break both their hearts as Alex walks her around the room, Michael with his hands in his curls and thankful their home is in the middle of the woods. They’re only pissing off the wildlife.

Alex gives up, stops in front of Michael, nudging their feet together as she just continues to scream.

“Take her Babe, we’ve tried everything.” Still he’s tired and he doesn’t get it as he puts his arms out to cradle her against his chest, doubtful it’ll be of any help. It wasn’t an hour ago. 

Alex shakes his head, levels him with that look, the one that makes Michael feel stupid and wildly aroused at the same time. A lot about them never did make much sense.

“No. Take her.” It clicks then, what his husband is saying. They never discussed what their daughter would really know of his powers. He’s free with them in his home, it’s outside the walls that it matters, that it’s dangerous. Alex just clicked his tongue when Michael brought it up. “It’s a part of you, and she’s lucky to have you, just like I am.”

So he does, nods his head as Alex slowly lets go, stepping back, arms still braced beneath her just in case.

As if Michael would ever let her fall.

She quiets almost instantly, mouth rounding into a soft pout, little legs tucked up tight to her belly. She just hovers before them, their little dream.

“God, she’s so much like you isn’t she?” Alex’s voice is still a whisper, afraid this moment of peace will end. “Likes to be left alone but still know you’re there.” 

So maybe his husband knows him pretty well.

When she’s learning to walk she always lands softly on her diaper clad butt, claps her hands as he rights her again, cooking dinner across the room.

She comes home from school, drops her glittery backpack on the floor and leaps into the air. She stretches her arms out like a mini superwoman as he soars her around the room and then into his waiting arms for a hug.

He tugs at her long dark braid to let her know he’s there. She tells her friends goodbye, running across the field and jumps into his truck, animated about what they learned in science class that morning. He’s heading to the diner for milkshakes before she even asks.

He gets a glare from her at the parade when Billy Jones’s hand suddenly slips out of hers and the gangley teenager trips over nothing. Michael just shrugs and offers her a smile.

And he watches Alex hold her as he loads the rest of her stuff into the back of his truck, her’s now. All ready for the drive to college, their baby girl out to live the dream he never got to. There are tears in his eyes when she leaps one last time, soars in their front yard into his arms.

“You call as soon as you get there, you hear me? Your Dad will be a wreck until we know.” She laughs, because when it comes to being the worrier over their little girl, well they both know who the real culprit is. 

She just squeezes him tight. “Don’t worry Daddy, you’d never let me fall.”


	2. It Is Not Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is from Michael's mother's view after that horrific episode that made me sob my eyes out.

She had forgotten who she is, who she was, everything over the endless stream of time. Everything but him. Years ago she had been thankful when she didn’t sense him, hoped against all possibility that he was safe, that they were safe. That he was a star’s path away from here.

She hid from her pain by remembering his smile. She lived two lives in tandem, the one she imagined for her son, the reality she was stuck with. She heard his laugh, she wiped his tears and eventually she forgot which was real.

It’s endless and bleak, a caged animal. If only they knew, I’d only they could make these humans understand why. But they’d never deserved it, they had been wrong to come. So very very wrong.

She knows she will die here, one day, everyday. She knows. She welcomes it, and she thinks of him.

There is so little of her left she doubts it will be much longer, her thoughts of him, her dreams of him, the only thing that keeps her going.

_I love you._

She senses him, like a flame in a black hole, a beacon. She thinks it’s death finally, what she’s hoped for all this time, and it’s him that will end her suffering. 

_My boy, I love you._

Until she sees those eyes, his father’s eyes, so clear and confused she is certain she is finally gone. Until she feels it, his anguish, his agony, his love. He is frantic and for the first time she is at peace, for she can give him something, the only thing she ever had to give him. He is alive. He is broken, but he is alive.

_My boy._

She calls him, presses her hand to the cage that has become her eternity and begs him to look at her. Please, please.

The moment they connect she breathes for the first time in millennia.

She takes it all, the pain and the fear, the moments of loneliness. He has known so much she would have died to shield him from. Still he has known love, real pure love and he is alive. Still so strong, more than she could have ever hoped he would be. He is perfect.

_My precious, perfect boy._

She uses what little she has, shows him who she was, who he was. The joy and the laughter, the soft touch of her hand through his curls. The gentle hum of her voice when his eyes filled with tears. Everything she feels for him, everything he is to her, she gives to him.

_I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you._

_Run._

The tether snaps, and she loses him again, loses the piece of herself she gave to him. She has always been with him, he will always be with her. Time and death have no power to change it. She wants to reach through the cage and hold him tight, just one more time. 

Those eyes, she memorizes them, holds them in her view as he goes. She repeats the words, over and over until she knows he’s safe, until it’s over. She is always with him, he is always with her.

_I love you. I love you. I love…_


	3. The Last Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some serious Malex angst I wrote post season finale.

It was the third time Alex has had to pick Maria up off the floor behind the bar, sober her up and tuck her into bed. Each time she cries a part of him understands and part of him, well it hates her doesn’t it? Still if anyone knows the damage Michael Guerin can do to the heart it’s Alex Manes. So he buries it, digs it deep under all the rest of the shit labeled “for another day” and waits until he hears her soft snore before he lets himself leave.

He knows she’ll be okay. Tonight had been more about her mother than anything else. Guerin was just something she called a mistake, always giving Alex a look like she can’t believe he still talks to her. It had been hard at first, he couldn’t pretend otherwise. Still the heart wants what it wants, how many times had he yelled that at his father? How many times had he swore he would never be ashamed to follow where it led? How could he deny anyone else that same simple freedom?

And Maria, she’s amazing isn’t she. Strong and fierce, uncomplicated as a person can be. He envied her, sleeping off the pain of what she was losing, something Alex has never had to begin with.

He thought he’d had family once, put all his hope in one person, still did. Only now that person was himself.

The irony is that Maria had been the one to end it. The alien secret had come out too soon in whatever Maria and Michael were trying to be for her to see anything else. She’d been livid at them all for keeping it from her but maybe they’d all known, deep down, how she’d react. Even for someone with a mystical mind and a soft heart it was a lot to take. Again, Alex understood how she felt, and that just made it all the more difficult when he saw Michael’s truck in his driveway. 

He gripped his steering wheel tight between his fingers. He’d known eventually Michael would come but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be on a night like tonight. Not when Alex was beyond weary of being the strong one, he was tired of breaking his own heart.

Of course Guerin looked beautiful, stained shirt and snug jeans, leaning on Alex’s porch railing like he’s supposed to be there. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. Always that teenage dream, the one that Alex never woke up from.

His leg ached, too much carrying Maria around and he can’t hide the slight limp as he makes his way up his front step. Michael notices and the pressure lessens instantly. Alex is too tired to be anything but thankful, walking through his front door and switching on the lights. He heads to the fridge to grab two beers, he knows Guerin will follow.

“Your door was unlocked this whole time?” It’s a low whisper, and Alex let’s it wash over him just one last time. Then he hardens his face as he turns, a bottle in his outstretched hand.

“Anyone who wanted in would find a way.” He knows there’s an edge to his voice, Michael wincing slightly before taking the offered beer. They both know any other time before Alex would have found him on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. Always trying to prove to Alex he had nowhere to hide, that he couldn’t run from them.

So he steps back, needing the space to be rational and the support of the counter to lean against. He’s just so weary of it all but if they’re going to do this best to get it done.

“I was trying to be respectful.”

“First time for everything. Why are you here, Guerin?” It’s a stupid question to ask, they both know the answer but Alex stopped believing he understood them a long time ago. Stopped assuming he knew what Michael meant when he opened his mouth.

“You know why.” Michael takes a swig of his beer, hand coming up to run threw his curls. It makes Alex’s fingers twitch, sense memory, another phantom limb.

“Yeah, well I’m going to need you to say it.” After Caulfield Alex had been nothing but honest, can’t have anymore space for misunderstandings. If Guerin chose to disbelieve, that was on him wasn’t it? 

“You know why I had to try, with Maria…” 

It takes everything Alex has left to meet Guerin’s eyes, he sees pain and want and a life that he’s not allowed to have anymore. 

Yeah, he kind of hates them both, the two people he’s only ever loved more than anything.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” 

“Are you?”

Alex can’t help the spiteful laugh that bubbles out, slams his bottle on the counter as he braces his arms against it. 

“Yeah, I am. I don’t like seeing the people I care about hurting. I’m sure that must come as a surprise.” In all of this that’s the most confusing part, watching Maria lose something she thought was real before it began. Seeing Michael’s chance at “normal” blow up in his face because of something he can’t control. None of them asked for this, Alex included.

The silence is defining, he can literally feel Michael’s need flowing through the room. He resents it because he feels it too. He’s accepted it, Michael just needs to catch up.

“Look, Guerin I’m tired. Really fucking tired, so if you could just say…”

“I love you.”

There it is, what they both know, have always known. Once again, it just doesn’t change anything. Alex remembers when he thought it did, when he believed it could.

“I know.” 

Michael moves like he’s coming to him and Alex shakes his head firmly, stops him in his tracks.

“I told you, I told you there was no going back from this.” He had, when he’d seen Michael’s healed hand holding Maria’s across the bar, when he’d searched him out to tell him about Max.

He’d tucked it away until later, when the dust had settled and they had a moment alone. Told him he wished them both happy, the words sour in his mouth. If someone was going to throw him away, at least it had been for his favourite human.

“And I told you I needed to try, I had to know if I could feel anything for anyone else. And I could, and I did, but it didn’t compare. You have to know…” 

“You need to leave.” For all of his bravado Alex doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to be who he is, doesn’t want to do what he knows he has to do so he can sleep at night.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s a wonder to Michael’s voice, a pleading in his eyes that almost breaks Alex’s resolve. Almost has him believing that nothing else will matter if he just has his arms around the man he loves.

Life isn’t a romance novel, and Alex doesn’t get to have those things. At least his Dad has been right about that.

“It’s why I wished you and Maria had worked out after all, hell you still might. At least then you didn’t throw us away for nothing.” He realizes he needs to be cruel, logic never worked on Guerin. He has a heart to break, and this time it’s not his own.

“Alex, please.”

“You could have picked anyone else, Guerin. Anyone. But you chose her and I get it, she’s amazing. She’s sunshine and joy, uncomplicated and special. That’s why she’s my best friend. That’s why I have spent everyday since trying to kill every piece of what I feel for you. Every damn hold you have on me. I love you, I always have, I probably always will. But us, this, whatever we were holding onto, we let go. Here. Now. I won’t do that to her, I can’t.” He knows there’s unshed tears in his eyes, he knows if Michael dared to reach for him he wouldn’t be turned away.

“She’s the one that ended it.” Maybe to Guerin that’s what this is all about. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Alex. Part of him wants to believe it, pretend this is some trick to hurt Maria like she hurt Michael, but he knows it’s not. It’s them, it’s what they do to each other. This constant give and take, mostly Alex and his selfish taking. He doesn’t want to be that person, not anymore.

So he does it, he keeps going, it’s the only move he has anymore.

“And you ended us. It’s what you wanted. Own it. Embrace it. Find your normal and easy, get out from underneath the mess we made.”

“I fucked up, I was confused and I just wanted…”

Alex cuts him off, plays the ace that will be the final note to their sad love song.

“Look away.”

Alex knows he’ll never forget the pained expression on Michael’s gorgeous face. He’ll never forget how it took every ounce of strength he had to not let his knees buckle in that moment. 

He loves him, it’s so deep inside, so rooted that Alex can’t imagine it being my other way. Michael deserves his normal, and maybe it wasn’t with Maria but it’ll be with someone else. Someone whole and hopefully worthy. Someone who doesn’t lay awake most nights with regret flickering like a flame behind his eyes. Someone who didn’t break Michael over and over again, someone who won’t keep doing it.

“No.”

A beer bottle smashes to the floor, strong warm hands are pulling at his face before he can blink. Fingers curling into his neck, noses brushing, and Alex can’t stop the painful ache as his heart thuds in his chest. 

“Don’t ask that of me, anything else Manes. Not that.” 

He can’t help himself, he’s weak and tired, it’s too easy to tip his mouth right where he wants it. It’s soft and remorseful, he puts everything he wishes he could take back into that kiss. This, it’s got to be the last goodbye, for both of them.

Guerin must sense it, because he holds on tighter, molds his body into Alex’s, tries to lock them into place. For a moment, he pretends this is what it could be like. No more secrets, no more lies, no more games. Just Alex and Michael, two people who found each other because that was the way it was supposed to be.

Finally he lets go of the vice grip he has on the arms that hold him and pushes the warm body away.

“Michael…”

“No, not this time. You have to stop running from me.” Fingers slide out of his hair, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so cold in his life.

“I stopped running months ago.” Alex side steps around him, avoids the broken glass and foamed beer on the floor, opens the door. Michael’s eyes flick between the waiting night sky and Alex’s face.

“Then why?” Alex hangs his head, pinches the bridge of his nose to try and stop the tears that will give him away.

“I’m not what you want, Guerin, not really. Maybe it’s the chase, maybe I’m the excuse you use to stay where you are. But you can be more, you can have more and you realized it. This is just a blip. You’ll wake up tomorrow and remember why you chose differently when you could.”

“And what, finally have a day where I don’t feel like I’m falling apart without you? Tell me Alex, tell me how to do it? I’ve tried, I’ve fucking tried and it doesn’t work. Tell me how to run like you do.” It burns, those words, because the truth hurts, every damn time.

“You put one foot in front of the other as you walk out this door.” Alex smiled at him then, he hopes it’s cruel, he hopes it slices and severs. He hopes it sets Guerin free.

Those eyes widen, lips curl in disgust, boots crunching glass as Michael walks past Alex. He smells of sweat and oil, Alex breathes it in deep, a memory to lock away. He can’t bring himself to look, waits until the headlights fade and the tires squeal off in the distance before he pulls out his phone. 

He knows Guerin, he knows he’ll be back. He’s the strong one. He’ll keep fighting, he always does. Alex was the only one weak enough to run away, so we would, again. Only this time he won’t make the mistake of coming back. He owes Michael that much.


	4. What Might Have Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex leaves Roswell the day after his and Michael’s almost kiss. He comes back for his high school reunion and realizes some things never change, like the way a certain curly haired boy makes him feel.

You can’t go home again, isn’t that what they say? What they should say is don’t go home again. Alex Manes had made that vital mistake, gone home and he regretted it. Why? Because he was sitting in a rented luxury SUV, AC running as he tried to pump himself up enough to get out of the damn car. 

He’d had his reasons for wanting to show up his 10 year high school reunion but he couldn’t remember them right now. 

Well two reasons actually, only two and he did remember them.

First, to throw a John Hughes style middle finger to the four years of hell he’d had within those walls and the people who’d made it that way.

The second? To lay eyes one more time on the boy that was the only reason those same years were even slightly bearable.

Alex wasn’t usually nostalgic, which was ironic given that he was a songwriter. He was paid large amounts of money to make melodies and prose into art, to make people feel something. It didn’t mean he always saw the beauty in the sunset or in the healing of a broken heart. It didn’t mean he looked backwards at all. He normally avoided it at all costs.

It just happened that his invitation to the reunion had arrived less than 48 hours after his interview with Rolling Stone. He’d been picked, along with nine other songwriters, to be a part of their “Voices Of A Generation” issue. It was a tremendous honour and a validation he’d never known he’d needed until he had it.

It didn’t matter that he had two Grammy’s, countless other awards and chart topping hits. It didn’t matter that he had Beyoncé’s and Taylor Swift’s personal numbers saved in his cell phone. It didn’t matter that he had a house in Malibu and an apartment in Manhattan. It didn’t matter what anyone in Roswell thought about him then or what they thought now, especially not Alex’s father.

No, what mattered was that he’d been chosen by Rolling Stone to represent the voice of the very people who had shunned him back in the day. They had tried to make him hate who he was and had failed miserably in their attempts.

Now they listened to his message, they sang along to his lyrics and that was a fuck you very much he wasn’t going to turn down delivering.

But none of it, not one single bit of it, would have been possible without Michael Guerin.

Alex could still remember it like it was yesterday, Michael’s lips, Michael’s eyes. Warm breath on Alex’s face and the moment of finally before it was gone and the soul crushing love of his life had pulled away before it could even begin. Instead it ended and so did any reason to hang on.

If that hadn’t happened Alex wouldn’t have packed his bags that night. He wouldn’t have taken out all his savings, bought a bus ticket and gotten out of New Mexico before anyone knew he was gone. He wouldn’t have sat staring out the window as the dessert went by, not bothering to hide his tears as he wrote “Cosmic Love” in his spiral notebook.

It was a song about a love that you can run from but never leave behind. The kind of love that is everywhere and in everything, that sustains you just as much as it makes you bleed. A love that only two people could understand. The love Alex had always felt for Michael.

The lyrics had flowed out of him in one go, the notes he played the first time at a rest stop under a flickering light at 2:00am.

A song that less than a year later made the gay teenage outcast of Roswell a force to be reckoned with. 

If Michael hadn’t taken away Alex’s only reason to stay, he never would have left. Alex felt like he owed Michael somehow for crushing his heart.

It hadn’t been that easy of course, but for once luck had been on Alex’s side. Los Angeles had been the escape he’d always dreamed of. He met people like himself, the outcasts, the freaks and the artists. He’d met boys, and men, unashamed to look him up and down, desire him. He’d been allowed to kiss in coffee shops and hold someone’s hand at the beach. He’d sat in the sand and played his guitar in between shifts at the souvenir kiosk where he’d gotten a job.

He’d been in LA six months when he’d met Jason. Alex strummed his guitar, black polish chipping off his nails, hard cement of the boardwalk under him. Jason, who had a voice like honey, sat beside him out of the blue one day and started singing along. Jason, who instantly became his best friend, and then shortly after became Jason Rast. 

Cosmic Love had been Jason’s first single off his debut album, and it changed both of their lives.

Alex Manes might write the voice of a generation but Jason Rast sang it, gave it life. He was the epitome of a rock star with a heart of gold. Fame hadn’t changed him, or their friendship. Or how much he liked to text.

Jason - Have you seen him yet? Did he get fat? I bet he got fat.

Alex - I’m hiding in the parking lot.

Jason - You know you have two Grammy’s right? Fuck those people.

Alex - Why did I want to do this again?

Jason- Do you want me to send a jet to come get you? We could go to Vegas. Adam Levine is there, he always throws a good bender.

Alex - You hate Levine.

Jason - Everyone hates him. It’s like a rule. 

Alex - No. I’m going to do this. I can do this.

Jason - MY MAN! 

Jason - Let me know if he got fat.

Alex pulled himself out of the car, smoothed the front of his button down shirt. He could have gone full celebrity and worn something designer. That was probably what everyone was expecting of him but it didn’t mean that’s who Alex was. Sure his jeans were probably too expensive by most people’s standards but they made his ass look amazing. He did have to face the unrequited love of his life after all.

He walked through the parking lot filled with cars but void of people. He could hear the music coming from the open gym doors, the muffled voices of his past. The sun was starting to set, casting everything in moody pinks and reds.

For some reason he headed towards the football field. Not that Alex had ever played the sport or even gone to a game unless dragged there. No, he’d spent his time under the bleachers playing his guitar or smoking a cigarette when he should have been in class pretending anyone at home gave a shit about him.

Alex had perfected being moody and pissed about the unfairness of life as a teenager. It had been warranted but it was still a damn cliche. 

He finally stopped with his hands in his pockets, took in the spot he’d sat with Maria or Liz, sometimes even Michael, but mostly alone. Just him and his guitar. This place seemed bigger back then, the whole world had.

“Looks exactly the same doesn’t it?” The voice from behind Alex didn’t make him jump, it never had. Instead it slide over him like a caress, heat and smoke, easy to fall into if he wanted. He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder.

Time had been good to Michael Guerin. Correction, time had been sucking Michael Guerin’s dick and thanking him for the pleasure. He looked like sex personified, low slung jeans and curls that Alex still wished he had felt against his fingers just one time. 

Michael was a little older, a little rougher around the edges but he still made a shiver go up Alex’s spine. It was like being 18 all over again.

“Of all the things I expect to change in this world Roswell isn’t one of them.” Alex smiled through the words. It was Michael and even when breaking Alex’s heart he was still the best thing about this God awful town. 

He got a grin back, Michael walking forward so Alex can meet him in the handshake/half hug that seems to be the straight man staple. He felt breath on his cheek for a second so it was worth it. 

“I can’t believe you came.” Michael seemed genuinely happy to see Alex, which he had to admit surprised him.

“Me neither.” He’s a liar but no one needs to know that.

“FYI, Isobel has your Rolling Stones cover up on the “Alumni Wall Of Fame.” It’s right next to Marcus Boyle’s USDGC gold medal.”

“USDGC?”

“United States Disc Golf Championship.”

Alex can’t stop the punch of laughter that escapes. Michael always did that to him, made him feel without fear. Alex could laugh or he could cry but it was easy, and it was safe.

“Is the medal in the shape of a frisbee?” Alex can’t help but meet Michael’s eyes, fascinated that they are exactly the same as he remembers them. Exactly like he still dreamed about most nights.

“No, but now that I think about it that is clearly a gross oversight.”

They stand side by side, their snorts of laughter fading into comfortable silence. Their kind of comfortable, with a pop of electricity that snapped between them. Alex would never forget how devastated he’d been when he realized he was the only one that had ever felt it. 

He kind of wants to go back in time and give 18 year old Alex a hug. At 28 he’s unsure how to handle this feeling, 10 years ago must have been terrifying. He doesn’t remember it that way. Michael had never scared him, Michael had fascinated him.

“Should we head in?” Alex turned to the gym, as ready as he’d ever be to face the masses, but a hand on his arm stopped him. The fingers are so hot Alex wasn’t sure how he didn’t catch on fire. He had to fight the part of him that just wanted to press those hands to his bare skin and burn alive.

“Or we could hide under the bleachers with the cooler of beer I put there just in case.” Michael’s smile is small, and if Alex has read it right, a little bit unsure. A peace offering? Which was ridiculous, it wasn’t Michael’s fault that he hadn’t felt the way Alex always did. 

No, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that Alex had spent most of his life continuously falling for Michael Guerin.

Alex had been so heartbroken he hadn’t realized when he’d run away he wasn’t the only one who had lost something. Michael had been Alex’s ideal, but Alex had been Michael’s friend. One of the choice few. For a moment he was ashamed of himself. But Alex had done what he needed to do for his own survival back then. He shouldn’t regret it now, but seeing Michael’s face, a part of him did. Alex owed him, even if it would probably smash his heart all over again.

“Lead the way cowboy.” 

They ducked under metal bars and squeezed through small openings to get to Alex’s favourite hideaway. It was perfectly hidden, right where two sets of bleachers met in a corner. There were two blankets and cooler with a black cowboy hat perched on top. As Michael sat Alex pulled out his phone, took a picture of the initials he’d scrawled in black sharpie back in the day.

AM WAS HERE/QUEER.

There’s other initials now, some with the same message as his. It makes him feel connected to the kids who came after. The ones who hid here just like he had. He wonders if he’d helped anyone feel less alone. 

Alex suddenly feels suffocated by Michael’s gaze, like it’s running the length of him in a slow trail. He’s imagining it, he knows he is, but he lets himself.

Finally he sits across from Michael, his legs tucked as comfortably as he can on the blanket left for him. He gladly takes the beer bottle handed his way, sighs after a long sip.

“So Guerin, do anything interesting in the last 10 years?”

And yeah, Michael’s laugh still sends Alex’s stomach into somersaults. Some things just never changed.

*********

They’re three beers in, the initial awkwardness gone. Their legs are spread out in front of them, Alex is mesmerized by the warmth of Michael’s thigh against his calf. It makes him want what he can’t have, but it’s a feeling he’s used to.

Alex is surprised that Michael never left Roswell, never went to university like he planned. He’s cagey on the details so Alex doesn’t push. Guerin doesn’t seem unhappy but he’s also not content. There’s something missing in his life. Alex can tell. They were always the same, the two of them.

They keep it light and easy. Alex shares stories of LA and the lack of glamor. How he enjoys fame without actually being famous enough to be recognized on the street. He’ll be the first to admit his life isn’t as exciting as people think.

Michael catches him up on Roswell and how much everything is basically exactly the same. 

“I was sad to find out the museum closed, I thought I would check and see if they had any new displays.” Alex meant it as a joke but he watches something akin to pain flash in Michael’s eyes. Maybe it’s the shadows from the flood lights, or maybe…

“Michael?!” Alex would know that voice anywhere, Isobel Evans on the warpath. The beer had made him loose, or maybe it’s the insanity of the situation but he can’t help himself. He starts to giggle.

Michael shushes him but it’s no use, Alex can hear the click of Isobel’s heels as they come closer. He can’t stop, he just keeps imaging the blonde princess’s face if she discovers them. That is until Michael reaches forward, one hand to the back of Alex neck and the other to cover his giggling mouth. 

He freezes, because suddenly he’s overcome with the warmth surrounding him. The fizz in his stomach now a full blown tornado and the sensation of fingers softly digging into his skin. Michael’s eyes are locked with his, and the world just melts away. He doesn’t know if Isobel has left. He doesn’t know if he’s dreaming but he can’t help himself. That was always his problem. His heart has a mind of its own and it’s always said one thing over and over again.

Michael.

He does the most insane and yet natural thing before he can think better of it, and presses his lips to Michael’s palm in a soft kiss. He does it selfishly, for himself. So Alex can say once, just once, that he got to. 

Michael’s eyes soften, his hand gone from Alex’s mouth. Instead it palms Alex’s cheek, a calloused thumb ghosting against his mouth. The moan it brings out of him, Alex would be ashamed of it wasn’t the most honest sound he’s ever made.

It’s there, that flash of heat in Michael’s eyes. The one Alex always thought he’d imagined. It’s real this time and it’s everything he remembers.

They meet in the middle, wet and open from the start. Michael’s tongue a direct shock to his dick, already hard and wanting. Alex wants to weep when he finally gets to slide his fingers into that hair, feel the curls catch and release. He tastes like beer and every good memory Alex ever had.

Michael’s hands are greedy and they’re everywhere. Alex feels the imprint of them long after they slide from his shoulders to his waist, a hard tug as they fist into his shirt. Somehow he’s dragged into Michael’s lap, the earth hard on his knees as he grinds down. It makes Alex whimper, he has to lose those lips to gasp for breath and hold on. 

Michael’s arms are holding him so tight, a hand sliding up under his shirt, teeth scraping against his neck. It makes his hips move faster, chasing something he can’t even name. They’re rhythm and Michael’s quick movements are going to end him.

Warm lips drag a path to his ear, breath heavy and wanton. “Always knew it would be like this.” 

It sends shockwaves through Alex, digs in deep, the reality that he hadn’t been the only one all those years ago. That he isn’t the only one currently drowning now.

“Michael…”

He’s grasped tighter, held fast and whatever he was about to say disappears. They’re lined up perfectly and Alex has never hated denim more in his life. He wants to slow this down, take his time. He wants to imprint everything to memory, horde it for the lonely nights that are sure to follow. Michael won’t let him, maybe he can’t. It doesn’t matter, not anymore.

Alex needs to kiss him again, so he does. They’re too out of breath, too keyed up. They’re just panting into each other’s mouths and lighting the world on fire. It’s all happening so fast, years of feeling focused into right here and right now. 

He’s so close, he’s so fucking close to dying and he can’t get their soon enough. Michael bites Alex’s bottom lip, pain and pleasure and everything in between. He forces his gaze to stay on Michael’s face, that fierce look of possession mixed with awe. Every dream Alex ever had paled in comparison to the real thing.

“Come on baby. I’ve waited a decade for this, don’t deny me now.” 

That’s all it takes, the demand in Michael’s words and what they really mean. It’s pulled out of Alex, like a gut punch of galaxies, the burn of the sun. He’s not alone, he feels all of it. Michael’s pleasure, his own eternity and bliss, quakes with it in every nerve ending.

Finally he floats back down, weightless and perfect. His arms still wrapped around Michael, his face pressed into soft flannel. He never wants to let go. Hands are still clutched into his skin. Unheard words are whispered into his shoulder. Alex just tries to relearn how to breathe.

It’s fingers on his face that finally has him moving again, their foreheads pressed together. 

“What the fuck was that?” Alex kisses it into Michael’s mouth, in awe of how much he still wants him. How much he always has, how much he always will.

Michael pulls back, runs his thumbs over Alex’s cheeks. His eyes are bright and brilliant, his voice clearer than it has any right to be.

“Cosmic Love.”

Alex stills for a second, has to close his own eyes from what it makes him feel. He never thought Michael would know the song was about him. He should of, of course he should have, who else could it have ever been?

“I went looking for you the next day. Searched everywhere. If I could go back…” Michael’s looking at him like he used to, another thing Alex hadn’t imagined after all. “I knew you’d leave Alex, but you were always supposed to take me with you.”

Alex sees it all in Michael’s eyes, all the loneliness and pain of the past reflected back at him. So much regret it breaks his heart all over again. Only this time, this time Alex gets to do it right.

“How quickly can you pack?” He means it, God does Alex mean it. Presses his lips all over Michael’s face, soft and sweet. Years of love he finally gets to show, to give to the boy who helped Alex survive. Now the man he still feels every bit of it for.

Michael stops his caresses, something shutters in his eyes and it hurts. Alex feels the world start to cave in. He tries to pull away, because he can’t lose this again. Not after what they just shared, he won’t survive it.

“No, don’t.” Michael holds fast, searches Alex’s face. “I just need to tell you something first. It might…it could change things.”

“It won’t.” Alex knows it couldn’t.

“Alex…”

He runs his fingers through curls, revels in finally being allowed to.

“I promise you, it won’t.”

They’re still pressed together under the bleachers when Alex learns the truth. It should shock him, it should scare him. It doesn’t, not even a little. He just listens and he believes and none of it matters.

It’s Michael and him, it’s them and what they’ve always been. It’s cosmic, and now Alex knows why.


	5. When Alex Manes Loves You

**He takes care of you.**

Alex leaned over the building plans spread out on the table. They were almost certain this was another facility, one that might just have some of the answers they were desperate for.

Well most of them were, Michael still wasn’t sure what Alex’s motivation was. At least not anymore. How many sins of your father were you supposed to atone for before you were square? 

Max was sitting in a chair, he still had trouble standing for too long. Coming back from death was a bitch. Still he seemed to be taking in everything Alex was saying. At least someone was.

Michael couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Isobel and he wasn’t paying attention to anything else.

She’d walked in 10 minutes earlier, flounced in really, and tossed her bag in the corner like she’d done it a million times. Michael had only been to Alex’s bunker once before. He could swear there were ghosts in the walls, it made him feel watched. Isobel, however, seemed comfortable as could be. 

It irked him.

She was in yoga clothes, an old habit she’d picked back up since she found out her husband was a serial killer. He didn’t think she believed in all that zen bullshit but he wasn’t about to say anything about her new exercise kick. With Isobel you picked your battles.

She’d barely been there two minutes when Alex reached into his own duffel bag and tossed something in Isobel’s direction without even looking at her. She caught it with ease, wrinkled her nose. It looked like homemade trail mix, how very military.

“I can’t deal with your _hanger_ today. Yes, there’s M&M’s in there somewhere. Anyway, as I was saying…” Alex kept talking but Michael doesn’t hear it. 

It’s a simple thing, so tiny and insignificant but all Michael can do is stare at the bag in Isobel’s hands. She flicked her fingers around inside, digging until she finds what she’s looking for. She held the chocolate between her thumb and forefinger, smirked at Alex before she popped it in her mouth.

The smile Alex gives her in response can only be described as fond, lips Michael once knew intimately pursed in amusement.

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that rolled around in his stomach, refused to acknowledge it. When Isobel held the bag out and Alex took a handful without looking up from the table Michael felt his whole body clench. 

**He humours you.**

He was getting used to being in Alex’s space, not just his bunker, their unofficial place to discuss all things alien conspiracy, but near him. Close enough to feel the heat of his dark skin, breathe the same air. It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least not as much. 

Maybe they would be friends after all.

That is until he walks in, sees Kyle laughing, Alex with a bemused expression on his face and Isobel hanging something on the wall.

When Michael read what it said he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“There. Now it’s more homey.” Isobel stood with her hands on her hips, glanced over at Michael with a small smile on her lips. It’s the first genuine one he’s seen in months.

Later when Alex and Michael are sitting at the screens, he leaned over, kept his voice low.

“Are you really going to leave that up?”

He shrugged, but Michael doesn’t miss the way the skin on Alex’s arm beside his prickled in goosebumps. It gave him a rush of warmth, a feeling of satisfaction he missed too much to admit. 

“It makes her happy.”

And that seemed good enough for Alex.

When Michael walked out later he reads the words. He knows it’s a joke, but he can’t seem to laugh.

_Bunker Sweet Bunker_

**He makes you smile.**

Max was keeping a very close eye on his sister and Michael was along for the ride. Today was her wedding anniversary. No one mentions it, no one dared to, but they knew it would be a hard day for her. She wouldn’t admit it, because weakness was not a word in Isobel’s vocabulary. So instead Max was brooding, pouring Isobel wine in the middle of the day like this was some joyful alien family gathering and not them trying to make sure she doesn’t crack.

Michael knew that Isobel probably would have preferred to have Alex here. They were so chummy now it made his skin crawl. Another thing he hated to admit, he was jealous of her. It was something he was used to in a way. At least before all her walls came down, and he learned life for her wasn’t as easy as he liked to imagine. 

Alex had been the one to ask Max, and therefore by association Michael, to look after Isobel today. The soldier and Kyle (who he would never admit to being envious of, even if you put a syringe of the cure in his arm) were gone on some secret fact finding mission. Michael didn’t know the details. Which was _fine._

Let Isobel and Alex have their wine nights. Let Kyle be Alex’s right hand man. It didn’t bother Michael in the slightest.

_You’re a miserable liar._

But Max was still hovering, and Isobel just kept sighing and rolling her eyes like she was the one doing them a favour.

The doorbell rang and Michael watched her jump to her feet, no doubt happy for a brief reprieve from their lame attempts at comfort. There had been a time when it was always just the three of them, even when they hated it. God, even when they resented it, at least they had each other. But as more people were let in, as more people were trusted, it blurred what they were to each other. 

Michael hated the feeling.

Isobel came back into her living room practically skipping, a package in her hands. Max was instantly on edge, like it would contain a bomb or something. She liked to shop, Michael could only imagine what she’d purchased herself this time.

It wasn’t until he saw her chuckle as she read a card that he realized it was a gift. She placed it on the coffee table and hummed to herself as she used her thumbnail to break through the taped up box. He swiped the card and felt his stomach clench as he read the words inside, the handwriting a little too familiar.

_If you’re going to be a widow, best do it right._

_Sentiments, et cetera, don’t drink all the wine without me._

_A._

Alex hadn’t even signed his full name, just the first letter. Because she would know who it was. Of course she would. It made Michael seethe.

He heard Isobel’s gasp of delight and watched as she unwrapped a black hat, satiny and classic, a small black veil in the front. To anyone else it would be in poor taste, but as she put it on her head and drew the wisp of a veil over her eyes she was positively beaming. 

She looked like a vamp in a noir movie, the widow in fake mourning. It suited her, Michael could admit that. The radiant smile on her face filled him up, made him forget his earlier anger. Alex had given Isobel something, made the day easier. He couldn’t be anything but thankful, even it it was begrudgingly.

She ran to look in the mirror, preened at herself and then started rambling about something or other. Max gave Michael a confused look, he just shrugged in response.

He tried to not remember the times when Alex gave Michael exactly what he had needed, exactly when he had needed it. 

**He leans on you.**

As soon as he read the text from Maria he’d gotten into his truck without thinking. When he’d seen her name he’d frozen for a second. They’d ended things a few weeks prior. No drama, no tears. They just weren’t _it_ for each other. He loved her. He always would. Just not the way he was supposed to. 

Then her words had him in motion, he had to get to Alex. He couldn’t be alone, not right now, even though Michael was sure he’d demand it and then tear himself up in the process.

It was still light out when he pulled his truck up Alex’s drive. He was stunned for a moment to see not just Kyle’s car but Isobel’s as well. He debated turning around, pretend he’d never come until he saw the front door open and Isobel stepped out onto the porch.

No going back now, so he climbed out, boots kicking up dust. Isobel offered him a small smile.

“Is he…” Michael didn’t know what to ask. Of course he wasn’t okay. Jesse Manes was dead and even if he was the devil incarnate he was still Alex’s dad.

“No, but he will be. Kyle and him are on the back deck grilling steaks.” She was still blocking his path, and Michael knew how to read a room. “We’re going to get him wasted and put him to bed.”

He nodded at her, he’d never felt like he didn’t belong before, not with Isobel. Never with Alex. It felt like being a ship adrift on the water, nowhere to go.

“I just thought he could use a friend.” 

“He can, that’s why we’re here.” She wrapped her arms around herself, the way she always did when she’s about to hurt him. Especially when she doesn’t mean to. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…”

He doesn’t let her finish the sentence, it’s already too much. “Yeah, I get it.”

Instead he turned away, felt ridiculous for coming there in the first place.

“Michael.” It’s soft but he hears it. So he stopped, took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. “You’re more than that to him. So much more and he shouldn’t have to deal with that too. Not right now.”

He gave her a quick nod, because she has appointed herself Alex’s protector and he wants to thank her. Even if it meant keeping him away, Michael knows Alex is kept safe and loved. Even if it can’t be by him.

_And whose decision was that?_

The thought pounded in his head on repeat for the next three days. 

**He never stops.**

It’s in the bunker, because of course it is. Just the two of them, Isobel’s stupid sign on the wall and a lab coat that no doubt belongs to Kyle thrown over a chair. They had been looking at something on the computer again, Michael leaned in too close as he tried to memorize everything he could. 

He never gets to touch, not anymore, so his eyes are always hungry. It’s not sexual, at least not always, tonight he’s fascinated by the way Alex’s hair is in disarray. Frustrated hands running through it with every other click of the keyboard. Michael wants to replace them with his own, soothe the dark cloud Alex is giving off. Put fingers to tense shoulders and dig in.

He fights it, because that’s all he does around Alex anymore. Torture himself by looking and beat down the part of him that wants to do something about it.

Finally they gave up, Michael tried to make some stupid joke that failed miserably at being funny. Alex just lifts a corner of his mouth, like he appreciated Michael for even trying. 

They both reach to grab Michael’s jacket at the same time, hands brushing for a moment, eyes locking in surprise.

With them, that’s all it takes. Match to gasoline and everything burns around them. Alex biting into his mouth, pushing him against the table, stealing his breath and his heart. He whimpered, because it’s them and he never thought he’d get this again. Wouldn’t let himself ask for it.

But the sound snapped Alex back to reality, made him lean away and fingers slipped from their grip in Michael’s hair. The sudden cold that slipped over him made his bones hurt.

“Michael, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“I love you.”

Alex stilled, hands squeezing hard where they rested on Michael’s arms. Alex doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. His face is awe struck, his eyes bright. They both know, they’ve always known, they’ve just never said it.

_Why had they never just said it?_

But this time maybe it isn’t enough, maybe it’s too late and they didn’t figure it out in time. Maybe he’d let Alex push him far enough away that Michael hadn’t found his way back in time. Maybe they’d…

Then Alex is on him again, just as intense, just as needy but gentle, almost reverent. He’s unbuttoning Michael’s shirt, brushing their noses together..

“I love you.” Michael can taste it on his tongue. 

“I love you.” It hums through his blood. 

“I love you.” It’s whispered into his mouth.

“We’re going to talk, okay. After.” Michael can only nod in agreement as his shirt is pushed off his shoulders, as teeth drag at his lip and he’s welcomed home.


	6. There's Only One Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Michael Guerin Week 2019 for the prompt "Fav Trope."

“We have a problem.” Michael leaned into the open window of his truck, aware once again of the insanity of the situation.

“And what is that?” Alex was tired, that much was clear. He also had a smudge of dirt on his face and a few split knuckles that looked raw.

“They only have one room, and that room only has one bed.” Michael wasn’t a white knight by any means but the last thing he wanted was to break the small amount of friendship they’d built in the last 48 hours. “I’ll sleep in the truck.”

Alex let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You are not sleeping rough because of me. It’s fine. We can share.” 

“Alex…”

“Oh for God’s sake get over yourself Guerin. I’m not sure I can even stand at the moment, I won’t be taking liberties.” 

Yeah, that was the problem, Michael kind of wanted him to. Firstly, it was Alex and regardless of what he might say or do Michael was always going to want that body pressed against his own. Second, watching Alex take down two of his brothers with his fists and only one good leg may have been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Michael was a simple man, well alien, and he wasn’t above admitting it. He watched in shock as Alex had taken both men down, then jumped in his truck with the simple shout of “Drive!”

So he had, until they were almost out of gas and about halfway back home. They hadn’t found what they’d been looking for but they knew they were on the right track. Jesse Manes wouldn’t have sent his minion sons after them if they weren’t.

That was neither here nor there. They were both exhausted, Alex was in pain and that was not something Michael would ever be comfortable witnessing.

“So?”

“Huh?” Michael may have been replaying the fierce look in Alex’s eyes in the glow of his headlights as he choked out his older brother. Right after he’d knocked the other one out cold with an elbow to the face. It had been…

“The room number?”

“4.” Michael was kind enough to walk ahead to save Alex having to pretend he wasn’t wincing with every step. He debated taking some of Alex’s weight with his ability but the stubborn idiot could always tell and he never took kindly to it.

Alex decided to have a shower and now that was something else Michael had to visualize. He was trying to imagine this sleep situation. Sure the bed was a king, and though it was a cheap blink and you miss it motel the thing looked clean enough. The problem was that Michael ran hot. Too hot. He usually always slept naked and even then any sheets ended up kicked to his feet in the night.

He couldn’t do that with Alex, no doubt sharing sheets wouldn’t help the heat situation. Something about Alex just made him radiate, always had. He didn’t like to think too much on why that was. 

He listened to the water run, jolted a little when he heard it stop. He wanted to make sure he was there if Alex needed him, some habits die hard. Instead a few moments later the object of his thoughts emerged. His hair was damp, he was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and without his prosthetic. He looked gorgeous, even with the weight of the world still heavy on his shoulders.

“It’s all yours.” Alex leaned on the wall. Clearly he would have to do some maneuvering to get to bed unaided and he didn’t want Michael to watch him do it. So Michael made his way quickly into the small steamed up room, shut the door softly behind him. He took in Alex’s clothes, damp and hanging on the towel rack. He sniffed at his own and figured he’d be fine the next day. He was just thankful he’d chosen to wear underwear that morning. He splashed some cold water on his face and then just braced against the sink, tried to get his head on straight. 

They’d spent all day together, in the close confines of his truck. This should be no problem. They would be unconscious for most of it anyway. He spotted the leg leaning against the wall and figured he’d bring that out in case Alex needed it in the night. If he took a couple deep breaths before he opened the door no one would need to know.

The room was softly lit now, just the lamp on his side of the bed glowing. Alex was a lump under the covers, his arm thrown over to hide his face. Michael had to resist the bizarre urge to jump on him, make him laugh, anything to dissipate the black cloud hanging in the room.

Instead he leaned Alex’s prosthetic against the wall, quickly undressed and laid on top of the blankets as he turned out the light. He could see movement out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t dare look. Knowing Alex was beside him was more than torture enough. 

Still the silence, it was kind of killing him,

“I’m not against sharing a blanket with you, it’s just that I…”

“Run hot. I know.” Alex’s voice was a watery whisper and it made Michael’s throat tight.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, it just always seemed to run on repeat in his brain when the love of his life was around.

“What for?” There was a hitch to Alex’s voice. Maybe the dark would let them be truthful for once.

“All of it. Everything. Mostly that your family is shit.” Alex’s brothers had been relentless, for no other reason than because their father told them to be.

“Yeah well…they aren’t my family.” 

It hung there between them, Michael knew what he meant. Or at least what he hoped it could mean. Then he felt it, cool fingers slipping into his, seeking comfort and warmth. They locked together, grasped tight. 

“Alex…”

“Can we just pretend, right now, that everything outside these walls doesn’t exist? That us, what we’ve done to each other, what we’re up against, all of it…can we just face it tomorrow?”

Michael took in the fierce squeeze of Alex’s hand, knew that if he reached out he would feel the wet of tears on those cheeks. Instead he rolled onto his side, molded his body to Alex’s, fit his chin into the dip of shoulder and neck. He heard a sigh, then arms came around him, the blankets around Alex the only barrier between them.

Tomorrow they had a conspiracy to unravel, questions to answer and a past inching closer and closer on their heels. Michael wasn’t entirely sure he’d survive it all, if any of them would.

But right now, as he was lulled to sleep by fingers in his hair, it didn’t seem to matter too much. And maybe that was the only answer worth finding.


	7. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Michael Guerin Week 2019. The prompt was "drunk and disorderly" and I somehow started imagining an AU where Michael was the exact opposite of that.

To say Friday nights at The Bunker were rowdy would be an understatement but Saturday nights were like a second coming of hell. Michael did not have two masters, one in engineering and the other in biodynamics, to deal with this shit. But needs must, and plying officers with alcohol while they held up the bar was a gateway to information. He took in every tidbit, worked out shift schedules and even swiped one security pass from a dubious looking corporal. After two months he was so close to getting inside that he was antsy, that much closer to some answers about who he was and where the hell he was from. He tried to remind himself he’d waited 28 or so odd years, that he could wait just a little bit longer. 

***********

He’d done a decade in the foster care system, he knew a thing or two about biding your time and protecting yourself. You move when the moment is right and you keep your fucking head down. 

It was easy to go unnoticed in most regards. Everyone in this town either worked for the military or made their living off of it. No one questioned what was going on behind the chain link fences or deep in the desert too barren to visit. No one bothered to look to closely at the man sliding them drinks. Especially when it was really easy to slip into their mind and erase yourself completely. 

Michael would have made an excellent spy, probably would have given James Bond a run for his money. Fact was he’d much rather be the Q in the situation, but once again, needs must. So he watched and he clocked and he made himself as unassuming as possible.

So as Saturday nights went it was loud and obnoxious. Clearly there was a new brood of recruits, some battle scarred, some probably with their virginity still intact, but all happy to have been selected to work at one of the most prestigious and secretive bases in the US. Michael scanned them all, none of them would be any more than grunts. None of them had a fucking clue what was really going on and therefore weren’t worth his time.

But he’d pour their beer and serve them army themed burgers and wait for his opportunity.

What he didn’t expect was the package said opportunity would turn up in. Or how it would unravel every plan and belief Michael held dear. 

What was it they said about mice and men? They should have included aliens in the mix.

*********

It was second nature, every time a new body came through the door his mind scanned them. He didn’t even have to look up, he didn’t have to stop what he was doing. He’d know in a few seconds what he was dealing with. It got to the point that he probably let his guard down too much, that’s why this one had affected him so much. Or so he told himself.

It was the end of the night, most had cleared out except for a few men leaning on each other nursing the dredges of their beer. Michael had done his share of the clean up and was going to kick them out on their asses in a few short moments. He’d heard the door open, his mind doing what it did until he was hit with a wave of something he’d never experienced before. It was desire mixed with pain, dark and light. Secrets in shadow mixed with laughter and contentment. 

He could admit to being shocked, instinct telling him in some way whoever had just walked in held the key to something vital. Something tangible. Until he turned and met brown eyes.

Then Michael learned the true meaning of being knocked on your ass.

*******

The thing was he’d never bothered to look for the other two kids he was found with over 20 years ago. He wondered vaguely if they all had the same made up birthdays on their drivers licenses. He’d occasionally get a memory of giggles and mischief, but then pain and fear. He didn’t know if they were alive but somewhere inside he knew that was a lie. He’d know in his bones if they weren’t. 

They’d be together again someday, of that he was certain. But Michael felt like he needed to have the answers before he met them again. He didn’t know why, but the why had been what he’d spent most of his life searching for.

********

He didn’t have to wait long before he saw those eyes again. He’d been too stunned to do anything but nod as the man mumbled apologies for his intoxicated soldiers and then shuffled them out the door. He noted the name _Manes_ as one drunkard shouted it with delight. He’d seen that name before but he couldn’t quite put his finger on where. He went straight home and used every contact and dark web access he had to find out more.

Staff Sergeant Alexander Manes, from a family of military servicemen. More importantly his father was Jesse Manes and the rumours that swirled around that name had Michael buzzing with excitement. This was a window of opportunity he could not pass up, he just had to figure out how to get an in with the Staff Sergeant.

He didn’t expect Alex to make it so easy, and so fucking complicated.

********

The first time Alexander Manes talked to Michael he felt it in his dick. He politely asked for a beer on a rather dull Wednesday night and the sound made Michael’s knees weak and his pants tight. 

Thoughts of seduction hadn’t entered his mind as a viable option until he smiled, got a lick of pink lips and heated eyes in reply. Michael had done that before, used his charm and body get him the answers he needed. It had never been a hardship, he never jumped into bed with anyone he didn’t want to. If it turned out to be more than beneficial for him in the long run so be it.

The fact was with Alex it hadn’t been anything but a need from the start. He told himself it was answers he was after, but he wouldn’t let himself admit it was all the wrong questions.

**********

He made sure to run into him at the gas station, at the grocery store. Casual head nodes, one blinding smile and a wink for good measure.

It was the wink that must have sealed it, gave Alex the green light. You always let them come to you.

That night when Manes had walked in Michael got the same jolt, only this time it was more than heat. It was like shooting stars and swirling cosmos. 

When he handed Alex his beer he casually mentioned he was off at 11:00. He held the bottle a little longer than necessary, felt the soft rub of skin as their hands met. It was warm and soothing in a way he didn’t expect.

They ignored each other for the rest of the night. At least Michael attempted to, but his mind kept going back to him. Searched him out. Wanted to settle in and stay a while.

*********

He broke all his rules that first night. Never take them home, never let them in. Guard up Guerin, at all times, at all costs. 

Rules are easily forgotten when your shirt is scraping against plaster and your mind is deliciously blank of anything else but how good Alex feels in his arms. He’d never been one for making out, not since he was a teen. With Alex he’d have happily stayed pressed in the shadows, night sky lit by the moon as they teased with lips and tongue.

If this was the preview then the main act would probably end him and he kind of liked the idea. 

So he pulled and he shoved as they danced to his Airstream parked in the far back of the parking lot. He needed walls and a flat surface with Alex’s skin on display. 

He wouldn’t realize until later how dangerous that had been. He forgot himself, forgot everything. Because they moved and they moaned, they laughed and they smiled into each other’s mouths. 

When it was over they curled around each other, limbs and sheets tangled. He whispered stay and got a contented sigh in return. 

The one thing he should have realized was that they’d never shared their names and yet still they’d been whispered and gasped into the night. 

That should have been his first clue.

**********

When he woke up Alex was still there, dark hair messy and the only word that came to mind was adorable. He’d never felt fond of anything in his life. He’d never felt this way before. 

So instead of using his advantage, the openness of a sleeping mind and the time to explore it, he pressed closer and breathed.

********

They were dating, which was sort of the most bizarre experience of Michael’s life. Not so much the making each other dinner or texts asking _how is your day?_ No it was the openness of affection, so easily given, so easily received. It was missing Alex the moment he was out of sight, the flood of relief when he was near.

They spent most of their time at Alex’s apartment, after a few weeks Michael felt like a different person. Was this what it was like to be normal? To be human?

He let himself forget why he’d started this. He let himself sink into the warmth of Alex and belonging.

********

They were both secretive in their own way. They didn’t talk about their pasts or their families. Which was a godsend. Michael should have seen it for what it was, both holding each other just far enough away. 

Just in case.

**********

It wasn’t until he’d gotten a message from a deep web contact that Michael remembered why he’d come here to begin with. There was info on Jesse Manes and two suspected aliens living in Roswell. When he opened the attachments and saw their photos he knew. 

_His family._

************

Michael started to work more then, tried to make up excuses as to why he couldn’t see Alex. He was walking a dangerous line. 

He didn’t want to use Alex, not anymore, but he also needed this all to be over. He didn’t want to pretend to be nothing but a bartender for the rest of his life. He didn’t want to pretend anything. 

Michael had never wanted anyone to know him before, all of him. Alex hadn’t been part of the plan, and now he was the only plan Michael had left.

*********

It felt weird to show up at Alex’s door with a bottle of wine and an apology on his lips. He knew why he was here, he had to take what he needed and then say goodbye. He couldn’t let himself think about it, couldn’t let himself fall back into the comfort and warmth and _this._

Alex didn’t even make him pay for the distance, just wrapped him in a hug and whispered _I’ve missed you._ Fed him dinner and kept looking at at Michael like he was all he’d ever need in the world. He kept telling himself it was okay to accept it just one last time.

Maybe it was that knowledge, knowing he’d never have this again. Alex above him, Alex below him, Alex buried so deep inside in every way possible. Maybe that’s why.

The plan crumbled fast when he was so close to the edge he wanted to cry, Alex’s fingers digging into his ass and his eyes unwavering. Maybe it was the words _I love you_ kissed into his mouth that had him losing control, falling apart, finally letting go.

Michael had never let go before, didn’t know what it could do. Didn’t know what it would mean. 

*********

Alex was still wrapped around him, eyes laser focused and wary. The bed had thumped hard to the ground shortly after the pictures had flown off the walls. If he wasn’t mistaken the lamp beside the bed hadn’t been shattered into a hundred pieces just a few moments ago.

_Michael?_

Alex wasn’t scared, just questioning. That look in his eyes was still there, those whispered words still meant something. Somehow that was more terrifying to Michael than the truth.

So he ran.

**********

Less than an hour after leaving Alex and his destroyed bedroom behind he was driving his truck and Airstream down the darkened highway. He’d wasted months of this life and never got any closer to the answers he’d been searching for.

He thought of Alex’s hair damp from the shower, of lazy Sunday afternoons draped over each other on the sofa and teeth biting into Michael’s shoulder. 

The answer he never got to give.

_I love you too._

*********

He ended up in Roswell. He didn’t have anywhere else to go and it felt like the only way to close the chasm in his chest. Part of him was missing now, he needed to fill it with something.

He’d barely crossed the city sign when he heard her in his mind. She was sassy, a little bit beautiful and she told him _it’s about damn time._ It was the first he’d smiled in weeks.

Maybe it should have been awkward, they didn’t really know each other. But it wasn’t. They understood him, they welcomed him in and he thinks they might have even love him a little.

He was more powerful, Max and Isobel only started really investigating their abilities a few years prior. Neither of them had telekinesis, but his _sister_ (as she called herself) had weaker telepathy skills. Their first order of business was to make those stronger. But his _brother_ (as Michael liked to tease him) had a healing ability that Michael had never felt an inkling of. 

Both of them were in committed relationships with scientists who accept them, knew the truth. At times he felt like he had more in common with Liz, Max’s wife and Kyle, Isobel’s husband. They spoke his language, sometimes they’d get in friendly arguments over theories and Michael felt understood for the first time in his life. He had a family, he had friends, people who knew what and who he was and didn’t run scared.

It wasn’t until he was alone under the stars at night that he could feel the hollow space where Alex was supposed to be.

*********

It had been a month of feeling each other out, sharing their pasts and their experiences. Until they all sat Michael down and decided to share what they were working on.

The danger they were all in.

Thankfully they had a lifelong friend on the inside, someone who was close to getting pieces to their puzzle. A man who Michael already knew was the exact opposite of the father that hunted them. 

Liz insisted he was the kindest soul she’d ever met. Max called him a good guy. Kyle called him family. Isobel called him her best friend. 

_You can trust him._

If only they knew.

**************

It was fireworks and a gasping ache when Michael felt Alex walk into the Prancing Pony. His skin itched in an instant, he wanted to rub up against Alex like a cat, curl in his lap. He wanted to push him down on a table and remind himself he was alive. He wanted to hold that face in his hands and rub their noses together.

Instead, he gripped his beer tight and expected a punch to the chin that never came.

Alex’s eyes were blank, like he didn’t know Michael at all. Like weeks ago he hadn’t kissed salsa from his lips or slept with their feet intertwined. He shook Michael’s hand, polite and indifferent.

_Isobel has told me a lot about you._

Then he turned away and acted like Michael wasn’t even there. He would have appreciated the punch more.

**********

So he cornered him in the bathroom because Alex Manes breaks his brain. He doesn’t think or function properly, he just needs to be alone with him.

Alex sighs, leans against the sink.

_I get it._

But he doesn’t, not at all. He tells Michael he understands, that had Alex been in the same situation he would have made the same play. He would have used Michael, pretended to care. He would have done anything for the answers.

_Just forget it okay. I don’t blame you. I’ll be gone in a few weeks. They don’t need to know. Please._

Michael realized then that Alex is ashamed. Ashamed that he fell for it. Ashamed of how he felt for Michael. So ashamed he doesn’t want his friends to find out.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, like every breath is tearing him up. 

***********

The next day he has lunch with Isobel but she’s looking at him funny. She even tries to sneak into his mind but he snaps the walls up quick. It actually makes her laugh. 

She asks him if he’s nervous about his interview the next day with a research lab at the hospital. He’s not, they’d be fucking lucky to have him. He tells her so.

_So…Alex…_

The name makes his head pop up, and she gives him a sly smile.

_Yeah I thought so._

Turns out Michael was far from subtle when it came to watching Alex’s every move the night before. He’s not embarrassed, weirdly he’s proud of what he feels for him, even if he’s not allowed to be.

_It’s not a good idea, not right now._

And then Isobel tells him about how Alex was seeing someone, was head over heels in love. She’d never heard him so happy, so content in his own skin. She’d been so hopeful for her friend, until one day he said it was over and refused to speak about it again.

_Who would ever be stupid enough to let Alex Manes go? I mean…_

Michael doesn’t really hear the rest of it. He throws money on the table and rushes out of the restaurant. He’s in his truck about to turn the key when he realizes he has no idea where he’s going.

Well his sister turned out smarter than he ever gave her credit for. He sees directions in his mind, the front of a cabin in the woods, a red door. He offers her his thanks and steps on the gas.

**********

Maybe banging on Alex’s door like a maniac wasn’t his most charismatic move. At least he hadn’t blown it off it’s hinges. He waited impatiently for the door to open, and then he just let go. Let it all tumble out.

_I love you. I didn’t fake that. I didn’t even know something like us could exist until I met you._

Alex just searched his face, warm brown eyes and something akin to joy lighting up his face. He pulled Michael into the house, into his body and into his mind. Into his heart.

So that’s when he learns what _home_ feels like.

****************

Michael never does learn all the answers but he learns the most important one. Not bad for best laid plans and all that.


	8. Over And Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Michael Guerin Week 2019 with the prompt "always support the bottom". This one is Mature.

Michael Guerin was the fuck up one of the bunch, that’s how everyone saw him. He knew that and he let them believe it. Hell, he’d spent years being proud of it. He owned it. It was a badge of honour, not as prominent as the cowboy hat on his head but just as much of what he showed the world. 

The thing was he’d never needed anyone to know what he’d done for them or how much it cost him. And hadn’t it cost him everything? His childhood, his dreams, his future. All of it snatched away from his hands at the same time he let it go willingly. Because at least it wasn’t Isobel, at least it wasn’t Max. At least he had spared them the pain, spared them the demons that haunted him at night. That had always been enough. Michael made it enough.

Then Max had to go and die like some alien saviour and literally do the opposite of saving Michael. Because now everyone was looking at him like he was supposed to have the answers, like he was a replacement for the self appointed leader of their tribe. Like suddenly what Michael did mattered in their eyes, instead of just in the shadows. Suddenly he mattered and he was coming up lacking. 

God he was so tired of that feeling.

Now Liz needed him to be the genius and figure it out. Now Isobel needed him to be the strong one, keep her steady. Now Rosa needed him to fix it so she didn’t feel guilty for taking away the love of her sister’s life. He was drowning under the weight of their expectations and he was pissed the fuck off about it.

The answers weren’t coming, and yeah, he was a genius but there was only so much he could do with the unknown. It came down to simply needing to be stronger, to get to the point Max had when he’d healed Michael’s hand. He needed to get there and he didn’t have time to waste.

It’d been weeks, he’d barely left his bunker or his Airstream. The last person who dared approach him, Isobel in tears once again, had been sent packing. If they wanted him to right all the wrongs they had better give him the goddamn space to do it.

He was living on acetone and rage, and he wasn’t getting any closer to where he needed to be. He barely slept, he barely ate, he just poured over every scrap of information he had. Still like this he knew the answer wouldn’t come to him. He needed to quiet his mind, he needed a moment for all the fragments floating in his brain to fuse together. 

Instead he drew the knife across his arm one more time as he braced for the pain to come. He felt it, but it was fuzzy, like mist around the edges. He let the cut bleed just a little bit before dropping the knife on the table and placing his hand over the wound. 

He focused, let the surge pf power flow through him. He could feel the skin coming back together. It was still like white light, noiseless and all encompassing. But he couldn’t break through it. He couldn’t control it as much as he wanted, hated that it overcame him. It always took him a minute to come back to himself. When he did his flesh was healed and he wasn’t alone.

“Guerin, are you fucking kidding me right now?” 

Alex Manes was the last thing Michael needed. He should have posted a sign on the door or something.

“Manes, I don’t have time for this.”

He didn’t, he really didn’t. Alex seemed to disagree, striding over the small space to take in the knife and small puddle of blood that had pooled beside it.

“Well I think you need to make time.” He was too close and Michael could never focus when Alex was near. Well he could, but on all the wrong things. Instead it was how Alex smelled, how he moved, how he was every good and bad thing that had ever happened in his life. 

Fucked up one remember?

And maybe it wasn’t fair but nothing ever had been. Not for Michael. Not for him. So he stood up, crowded in Alex’s space. Got up in that face that he saw every time he closed his eyes and just lost it completely.

“What I need? Since when has anything ever been about what I need? Not one damn thing about any of this is about me, you of all people should know that!” Part of Michael hated that Alex stood his ground, didn’t even flinch. Alex just took it all and honestly Michael was on a roll so he let him. “What is needed is for me to figure this out so everyone can stop looking at me like I’m doing everything wrong. What is needed is for me to fix it already. So could you just fuck off and let me do that?”

Alex closed his eyes against the words breathed in his face. Once again locking Michael out, another failure to add to his list. He turned away from it, slumped against the table and tried to control his temper. 

“So what do you need from me to make that happen?” Alex’s voice was a whisper, so full of sincerity that Michael turned to look at him. The look in Alex’s eyes, that pleading that he never knew how to fulfill left him feeling like even less than before.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, still too keyed up to think clearly. 

“I mean it.” Alex was in his space again, hands close enough to press onto newly healed skin. “Whatever it is. Anything. Just ask.”

Michael could feel himself start to crack under the weight of it all, enough that he swayed forward. Alex was there to meet him, hands warm on Michael’s waist, somehow their foreheads pressed together. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut. It was bubbling out, he was too tired, too damn worn down. His walls were crumbling around him.

He took a deep breath, but it was shaky and it hurt.

“Okay. It’s okay.” Alex’s voice soothed him, quieted the thoughts in Michael’s soul that was screaming at him that he wasn’t good enough. Not this time. Not ever

“Alex…I can’t…” He didn’t know what to say or what needed to be said. He knew what he craved, peace and quiet, that feeling of belonging. He’d just never been able to ask for it.

“Then just take it.” He felt Alex’s hands dig softly into his waist, the slight tug to bring them closer. It wasn’t a demand, it was a welcome. “Whatever you need. Just take for once Guerin, it’s okay.”

He let himself, for once he listened. He surged forward and dragged their mouths together. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t gentle, but it was sincere. The way the heat between them always had been. It burned them down, raged and destroyed but it was always the most real thing Michael had ever known. Alex in his arms, in his blood, the voices in his head finally appeased. 

He whimpered in relief, his muscles tense for an entirely different reason. Need snapped at his nerves, his fingers curled into Alex’s hair and held on. Until finally he just let go.

And Alex gave it to him, let himself be pushed back, let himself be stretched out. He let Michael tear their clothes off with fierce determination. With every stroke of his hands, with every dip of his tongue Alex offered Michael the only thing he ever needed, a place to be without judgement. 

When they were slick with sweat and Michael’s occasional tears, when Alex held his face and hissed as Michael sunk down on him the world finally melted away. The same burn, that same all encompassing feeling of right and perfect and enough. 

Alex just held on, whispered into his mouth, just gave and gave, like his only purpose in this universe was Michael and what he could offer him. And he offered him everything. All he was, all they could have been, all they still were.

Michael could feel Alex holding on, feel him reigning himself in until a bite to his bottom lip proved to be too much. Then Alex was thrusting below him, pulled at Michael’s hair and groaned into his shoulder. Voiced promises into skin that for once Michael knew Alex would keep.

“I love you.” He didn’t know who said it, or if it just beat between them in the rhythm of the dance they only ever shared together. It blinded him, had him lost to the fall.

When he came to he was crying, cradled in Alex’s arms, held too tightly as they slid down. He let Alex tuck him into his shoulder, wrap him in limbs and comfort and quiet. 

He must have fallen asleep, he didn’t know for how long, but the sky was pink and Alex’s fingers still soothed as they ran down his back. Michael felt raw and open, a bleeding wound that had festered but now was finally starting to heal. He was knitting himself back together, Alex something akin to magic that brought back to life what had died inside Michael.

“Thank you.” He wished he didn’t need to say it. Do you thank someone for loving you? Do you thank someone for being there? It’s not like Michael would know. He wasn’t like Max. He wasn’t easy to love and admire, he wasn’t…

Wait. Of course. Christ, of course.

“Liz. Shit…it’s Liz. She’s the key.” He scrambled out of Alex’s hold, reached for his jeans flung somewhere on the floor.

“What?” Alex leaned up on his arm, would have been a picture Michael could have stared at for hours if his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, bubbling over with the answers.

“Liz…she’s Max’s Alex. She’s the one, she has to be the one to heal him. I know it and I think I might know how.” He stopped when he realized what he said, turning back to Alex, afraid of what he would see.

He shouldn’t have been, not when those brown eyes were looking at him like that. Alex just reached forward, grabbed Michael’s shirt and pulled them together. Their noses bumped as he felt the words against his lips. “I know.”

The kiss was soft, it weirdly felt like their first one and the past melted away. Then Alex pushed, both of them scrambling to right themselves, keys and wallets and cell phones. Alex had his pressed to his ear as they exited the Airstream, smiled up at Michael as he unlocked his truck.

“Liz, it’s me. Michael thinks he’s figured it out, just like I told you he would.” 

Maybe he hadn’t, maybe this time he wasn’t right. But he’d keep trying. He’d bring his brother back, he knew he would. When Alex slid his hand on Michael’s thigh as they barreled down the road to meet everyone at the pods he knew he’d do it. Because he was more than enough, and just maybe he was starting to believe it too.


End file.
